For All We Know
by Yoru no Angel
Summary: Sequel to Bittersweet. It hadn't been easy, but they'd fallen in love. They married, and then came children; now, they have everything they ever dreamt of - or so it seems. After all, nothing stays perfect forever. Chase/Hikari.
1. Unexpected

The not so long awaited sequel to Bittersweet is here! If you haven't read Bittersweet, I suppose you should read it first :P also note that this continues on from Chase's ending, obviously lol. The focus will be split between Holly and Chase's children, and the drama concerning the adults. It might also flashback to the past every now and then...

I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up; I'm kinda busy with school and other stuff at the moment, but I'll update whenever I can!

So yeah, I hope you enjoy it~

* * *

><p><strong>For All We Know<strong>

Morning had arrived, and as the sun rose higher in the sky, the Baker household slowly came to life.

Holly Baker was always the first to awaken. Rain or shine, summer or winter (even when her bones creaked in protest), her day began at six o'clock and never a minute later. Her husband, on the other hand, didn't even stir when she pulled back the covers and struggled to manoeuvre herself to the edge of the bed. He would be dead to the world for a few more hours; the long and late hours he worked left him feeling drained and exhausted on a good day.

After having a quick shower and throwing on a mismatched outfit, Holly opened the door and was greeted by chaos: stray clothes, shoes and toys had been strewn all the way down the hallway. She sighed – it hadn't looked this bad under the cover of darkness last night.

It didn't take long for Holly to have everything looking presentable again (not that it would last that way for very long. Another hurricane would blow through the house again as soon as the children were out of bed) but that was just scratching the surface of her daily chores. There was still the farm to tend to, not to mention making the kids' lunches, washing last night's dishes, doing a load of laundry and even more cleaning...

If a mother's work is never done, what about the mother who also happened to be a farmer?

She did as much as she could around the farm, watering and weeding the crops, before feeding the cows and chickens, until around eight o'clock. Holly returned to the house and poked her head through the doorway of her children's bedroom.

Two beds sat parallel to each other against the sides of the room, each with a light auburn haired head sticking out from under the covers. On the windowsill Finn the Harvest Sprite was curled up under a potted tulip, softly snoring away. The alarm clock on the bedside table blasted a tinny, high-pitched tune, but neither child nor Sprite made a peep.

"Rosemary, Oliver, it's morning," She called gently.

No response.

"It's time to get up!"

One of the mounds mumbled, "Five more minutes."

"Come on, you don't want to be late for school, do you?"

"I do," The remark came from the other bed.

Shaking her head, Holly walked over to the window and opened the curtains wide. Warm, spring sunlight flooded the whole room. There were two simultaneous groans and the shuffle of covers as her children squirmed around, trying to escape the reach of the intrusive glow – with no such luck.

Eldest Baker child Rosemary was the first to relent. She sat up, her delicate features pulled tautly in a disdainful frown. A tousled haired boy rose next, stifling a yawn; the youngest, Oliver.

"Mama, why do you have to do this every morning?" Rosemary whined, squinting against the sunshine.

Holly grinned mischievously, "It works, doesn't it?"

When both of her kids were truly awake, she headed back out to the kitchen to prepare breakfast and lunches. Breakfast under Holly's watch consisted of cereal and cold milk – from her own cows, at least. And for lunch… a salad and ham sandwich each, an apple and a box of juice, she decided. Nothing fancy, but it would keep them going for the day.

Holly couldn't help smiling as she went about assembling the lunches. This mundane routine wouldn't suit everyone, but she couldn't imagine her life turning out any other way. Even with the never-ending mess.

Peace and quiet finally settled over the house.

It lasted for all of five minutes. A loud shriek suddenly resonated through the walls, which was then followed by a pained cry. Two pairs of heavy footsteps came thundering down the hall, racing towards the kitchen. Yet another normal morning in the Baker household.

Holly buttered two more slices of bread, and then she waited.

Three, two, one…

"Mamaaa!" Oliver bounded into the kitchen; he was watery-eyed and clutching at a very visible red spot on his upper right arm, "Rosie hit me!"

Seconds later, Rosemary skidded through the doorway, "He was touching my stuff!" She cried in defence.

Oliver hid behind his mother, "I just wanted to borrow a pencil…"

Holly sighed mentally – they usually got along so well. "Rosemary, you know better than to hit your brother–"

"This wouldn't happen if I had my _own_ room," Her daughter grumbled.

"–And Oliver, if you want to borrow something of Rosie's, you have to ask first." Holly looked between her children, "Let's forgive and forget, okay?"

The little boy ducked his head and nodded, "I'm sorry, Rosie."

"Yeah, whatever." Rosemary rolled her eyes, but her expression softened a little, "…Sorry I hit you."

"It's okay. It didn't hurt really anyway."

"Then why were you crying?"

Oliver pouted, "I wasn't crying!"

"You were too, crybaby– "

"Oh, look at the time!" Holly quickly exclaimed, "Hurry up and get dressed, breakfast will be ready soon – and do it quietly, because Daddy is still asleep."

"Don't bother," A flat voice interjected, "Daddy's awake now…" Holly turned around just in time to see Chase appear in the doorway, wearing a familiar disdainful frown – like father, like daughter.

The kids forgot their argument. Both of their heads angled downwards in anticipation of another scolding.

Instead, their father chuckled, "Well, at least I won't miss out on all the fun now that I'm up."

Oliver flung his arms around Chase's waist in greeting; he was an exact miniature version of his father, down to the way his hair stuck up in every direction. "Daddy, can we have pancakes for breakfast?" He asked.

Holly placed her hands on her hips. All that hard work preparing the cereal for nothing.

Chase shot her a lopsided smile and ruffled his son's hair, "Sorry, Olive, no time for pancakes today. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

"That's what you always say," Rosemary muttered.

If Chase had heard, he made no comment. He ushered the kids towards the door, "Go and get ready, you two."

With great reluctance, the children trudged back to their room, leaving their parents alone in the kitchen. Holly resumed her sandwich making; from the corner of her eye, she saw Chase approaching. He leant against the counter with his arms folded.

Silence crept up on them, seeming to suck the warmth from the room. There wasn't much left to talk about after fourteen years of marriage.

Chase was the first to break the stalemate, "Do you need any help?"

Holly shook her head, "I'm almost done here. You can go back to bed if you want."

"There's no point now, I have to be at work soon," He sighed, "Maybe I'll go have a shower."

Her attention remained on her work. "Okay."

Moments later, the kitchen door swung closed and her husband was gone.

* * *

><p>Rosemary gave Holly her patented preteen stare as she followed her children out the front door. "Mama, you don't have to walk us to school everyday," She promptly informed her mother.<p>

Holly feigned a wounded expression, "But I like walking you guys to school."

"Yeah, but… I'm not a little kid anymore, and Oliver's nearly ten."

Twelve years old going on sixteen; Holly had hoped for a few more months of reprieve before this phase began.

"We can walk by ourselves. It's not like we'll get lost," Rosemary continued, "Right Ollie?"

The younger boy glanced from his sister to his mother with barely concealed apprehension, "I dunno Rosie… I mean, I don't mind if Mama comes with us…"

Rosemary snorted, "Baby." She struck his arm and Oliver let out a yelp.

"Ow! Mama!"

"Rosemary!" Holly frowned. The offending fist was quickly hidden behind her back, but her daughter maintained a look of defiance. She was ready to put up a fight. "…All right, I'll stay home. I trust you. But stick together and keep an eye on your brother. And go straight to school."

Rosemary's purple eyes instantly lit up, "We will!" She grabbed her brother by the wrist and started to drag him down the dirt path that led away from the farm.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Holly protested, "Don't I at least get a kiss goodbye?"

Her children came to an abrupt stop. Rosemary swerved on heel and backtracked, pressing a quick kiss to Holly's cheek, "Bye Mama."

Oliver did the same, but lingered a little longer by also giving his mother a hug.

"Have a nice day!" Holly called out. She stood on the doorstep and watched as her kids made their way across the field, until they rounded the bend and disappeared from sight completely. She let out a soft sigh; as cliché as it sounded, they really were growing up so fast. Much too fast.

"You're such a pushover."

"Well, you didn't exactly jump to my defence," Holly said, as she turned around. Her husband, now freshly showered, dressed and shaved, stood behind her.

Chase shrugged, "I know a losing battle when I see one."

He stepped outside and the scent of orange and spice drifted over – of all the things about her husband, his scent was the one thing that remained unchanged after so many years.

"What time will you be home tonight?" She asked.

"I'm not sure. Hopefully before midnight."

_That's what you always say._

Chase leant forward, but Holly moved her head. His lips softly brushed her cheek.

"I love you."

Holly forced her mouth into a faint smile, "Love you too."

* * *

><p>"Do you have to walk so close to me?" Rosemary complained.<p>

"Mama said we had to stick together," Oliver protested, struggling to keep up.

"Well, Mama's not here right now." She gave Oliver a light shove and jogged off ahead.

"Rosie! W-Wait for me!"

Rosemary huffed and sped up again. The kid was so _clingy_, it was embarrassing. At least they were close to the Maple Lake District; every day since her first day at school, her best friend Heath Jones waited for her to come by and then they all went to school together. She wouldn't have to talk to Oliver for much longer.

Uncle Calvin's house soon came into view – Daddy said it used to belong to him, before he moved in with Mama. It was smaller than her family's house, but way more interesting. There was a lake just outside their back garden, where she, Heath and their other friend Matt spent many summers fishing and playing in when their parents had been too busy to take them to the beach, and inside was a collection of the fascinating things: old relics that Uncle Calvin had found on his adventures and the strange contraptions Aunt Phoebe built (Daddy said to stay away from those, though).

But they saw no one waiting outside on the front step.

"Where's Heath?" Oliver asked.

Rosemary walked up to the gate, "Maybe he's still getting ready."

An old Border Collie, who was laying down in the shade of a tree, lifted its head at the sound of the gate opening. "Hi Molly!" Oliver said. The dog just yawned in response and rested her muzzle on her paws.

Rosemary knocked at the door. They waited and waited, but no one answered. Heath's parents usually went to the mines early and he was allowed to stay home alone for a little while. Heath was so lucky. He didn't have an annoying tagalong kid brother, _and_ Uncle Calvin and Aunt Phoebe never insisted on walking him to school. They even let him wander around the Ganache Mines all by himself! – Well, only near the entrance, but still.

"D'you think he's sick?" Oliver asked. He'd wandered over to Molly the dog in boredom and was now scratching her behind the ears.

The elder sibling got on her tiptoes, trying to peer inside, "He was okay yesterday."

"Maybe he's at school already."

"Don't be dumb. Heath _always_ waits for us." Even when it rained, he'd be there, under the cover of an umbrella.

"It was just a suggestion," Her brother pouted. "We should go, Rosie. Uncle G – I mean, Mr Hamilton will be angry if we're late..."

Rosemary adjusted the straps of her backpack and seemed to obey. Oliver followed her across the front yard, but when they got to the gate, Rosemary turned right.

"That's the wrong way–"

"Go ahead without me," She said.

Oliver glanced around in alarm, "What? Why? Where are you going?"

"I'm going to see Heath," Rosemary explained, without looking back, "If he's sick, he's probably at his grandma's house."

Her brother's eyebrows came together into a frown, "But Mr Hamilton will be angry if you skip class again!"

"Just tell him I've gone on a private fieldtrip!" She called over her shoulder.

"W-Wait, no! Rosemary! Come baaaack!"

But Rosemary just kept on running, until her brother's figure was nothing more than a silhouette in the distance.

* * *

><p>Out of all the places on Waffle Island, Rosemary was sure that the Ganache Mining District was her favourite. Not that there was anything wrong about the other places – like Waffle Town was fun, but every summer it became overrun with tourists – it was just, while the rest of the island was so <em>normal<em>, the Ganache Mines were exciting. The mountain disappeared beyond the clouds, and there was the river and the forest, and the Goddess Pond (which Mama said she wasn't allowed to mention when the other adults from the mainland were around, because it would make them feel uncomfortable. Even though Daddy also looked uncomfortable when Mama talked about the Harvest Goddess).

Heath and Rosemary always went adventuring after school and on the weekends – Uncle Calvin is bad influence, Daddy always grumbled. They had yet to find anything worthwhile, like ancient relics or treasure, but that didn't matter. The most important thing was having fun.

Trying to navigate her way through the Ganache District stores was almost like an adventure in itself – if someone spotted her, there would be an interrogation about why she wasn't in class. Luckily, there weren't many people about today, only Luke and he was too busy chopping down a tree to really notice. Her dad often said Uncle Luke was so dumb, he wouldn't even notice a bear charging towards him until it was too late.

Rosemary managed to make it to the General Store undetected. Now the problem was getting inside. If Heath's grandma Barbara was serving at the front counter, it wouldn't be so bad. Today, however, it seemed that his grandpa Simon was there instead. His grandpa was such a worrywart.

She had no choice but to sneak around the back. Heath normally used the spare bedroom at the rear of the house when he stayed over. She could easily climb in through the window.

Sure enough, when Rosemary peered inside, she saw a green tuft of hair sticking out from beneath a mound of blankets.

"Psst, Heath!" She tapped at the window, "Heyyy!"

Slowly, the green haired head lifted, and then glanced around, before he finally realised where the voice was coming from. Heath crawled out of bed and quietly padded over to the window. "Rosemary… what are you doing here?"

"How come you're skipping school?" She demanded.

Heath averted his blue eyes – which were tinged red, she noticed. "I'm sick," He sniffled.

"You don't really look sick."

"I do too."

Rosemary gripped at the windowsill and pulled herself up. A few seconds later, she landed on the wooden floor with a dull thud. "You're totally faking!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"S-Shut up!" Heath suddenly shouted. He spun around and stomped over to the bed, burying himself in the covers again. "Just go away, Rosie."

Rosemary tossed her backpack on the floor and balled her hands into fists. She would not leave without an explanation for his strange behaviour, and she was going to _get_ an explanation even if it meant using force!

Three, two, one...

She pounced on the bed. Heath squirmed under her weight; he was trapped in place, both within the blankets and between her arms. When he finally untangled his limbs, he found himself staring straight into her narrowed purple eyes.

Rosemary's anger melted away. His blue eyes, she suddenly realised, were red because they were full of tears.

Confused, Rosemary released her friend and sat back on her haunches. Heath wouldn't look at her. He curled up with his knees pressed to his chest and rubbed the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand.

"Heath, what's wrong?" She asked softly, "Whatever it is, you can tell me!"

He fell silent, for what felt like an eternity.

"My dad… m-my dad got a new job, somewhere far away." He struggled with the words, shoulders beginning to shake, "We have to move, Rosie! I don't wanna go! I wanna stay here on Waffle Island, with you and everyone else!"

Something heavy dropped into her stomach, something cold and hard that spread throughout her whole body and made her fingers feel numb. It was a strange feeling, because her eyes were burning.

This couldn't be happening. Heath was her best friend. He had been by her side forever; every memory she had included him in some way. If he left…

"W-When?" Rosemary whispered.

Heath's tearful gaze met hers, "Next month."


	2. Comfort

Thanks for the reviews and favs everyone :D

Now, to answer some of your questions: yes, Jones came from Indiana Jones, because I'm so (un)creative :') and god, I hope this won't be as long as Bittersweet. So far I'm thinking it will be 15-20 chapters long… but then again, that's what I said about Bittersweet and look what happened to that :P

* * *

><p><strong>For All We Know<strong>

The colours of her memories could fill a rainbow. There was the red of the sunset at the Summer Festival. Her daddy's favourite fruit oranges (the best source of vitamin C, he'd always say). The different kinds of yellow flowers her mama grew throughout the year – daffodils in the spring, sunflowers in the summer, moondrop flowers in autumn and snowflake flowers in winter. The green of the fresh grass that grew abundant in the Gelato Fields. Blue could be many things, like in the sky or the ocean, but to Rosemary, blue would always be the colour of Heath's eyes.

It was those eyes she was staring into, under a blanket of darkness. They were curled together on Heath's bed with the covers pulled right over their heads. She remembered when they used to have sleepovers every weekend (back before Daddy decided it was 'inappropriate' for a boy to stay in her bedroom, since she was almost thirteen years old now). After Oliver had fallen asleep, Heath used to crawl into her bed and they'd read his adventure books with a flashlight shared between them.

Hiding out here, Rosemary imagined they were on an adventure. They had found an ancient relic, but some bad people were after it too; they had to remain as still and quiet as they possibly could be. Her heart raced when Simon had poked his head in and asked how Heath was. His reply had been shaky, but his grandpa hadn't noticed, nor did he realise there were two lumps under the covers.

They stayed together for hours, for so long that she missed school completely. And it seemed like no one had even noticed.

That is, until the door opened and a familiar voice called her name.

"Rosemary."

Mama. Rosemary pretended not to hear, wrapping her arms tighter around Heath's middle. Oliver must've told. He was always such a goodie-goodie.

"Daddy and I were so worried about you. We didn't know where you'd gone."

Like she could believe that – the only thing Daddy really cared about was his job at the Sundae Inn.

"Heath, buddy, Rosie has to go home."

Uncle Calvin that time. A surge of hatred prickled at Rosemary's skin. This was all his fault. Why did he have to move to somewhere on the other side of the world, just to work? Why did he have to take Heath with him? It wasn't fair!

She heard Mama take a step forward. "Come on, sweetie. Let's go home." Her voice sounded strained, too gentle, like she was trying to keep the sadness from creeping into her words. Rosemary wondered if she felt the same way as her – along with Aunt Maya and Aunt Kathy, Uncle Calvin was one of Mama's best friends.

Rosemary closed her eyes, tried to block out the voices. Maybe if she wished hard enough, they'd all go away and leave them alone. Just her and Heath; the only person she'd ever need.

Mama sighed. "Rosemary, we're leaving," She repeated. Her tone was stronger, sterner, but Rosemary knew she wasn't angry. Mama never got angry, really.

The covers disappeared from over her head. Rosemary met her mother's gaze; as much as it annoyed her when everyone treated her like a baby, she wanted Mama to hug her and tell her everything would be all right. She sat up and Mama reached out to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"Don't go," Heath whispered. His trembling fingers tightened around hers.

Rosemary's first memories were of those blue eyes, peering up at her with curiosity. An innocent hand had extended towards her. Their hands had met, and now, eleven years later, they were still holding on.

And then fate decided it was time to tear them apart.

* * *

><p>Chase stood frozen in the doorway, helpless, as he listened to Rosemary weeping into her pillow. Holly had been by her side for hours, gently rubbing her back and whispering soothing words, but her efforts were in vain. At this rate, Rosemary would make herself sick.<p>

Part of him wished he'd stayed at the Sundae Inn, safe in the refuge of his kitchen – it had been Maya who forced him out; he knew better than to challenge the patience of a woman who was six months pregnant with her third child.

There was nothing worse in the world than having to watch your little girl cry. Being unable to console her, being unable to take away her pain, the only thing he could do was to silently suffer with her. Each sob shot though his heart like a bullet and ricocheted through his entire body, until it left him numb with anger and despair.

Years ago he'd witnessed Holly cry over that bastard Calvin, now his son had done the same to his daughter. Broken her heart. Those damn Joneses were the bane of his existence.

If Chase could somehow go back in time, he'd pinpoint the exact moment Rosemary and Heath became best friends and stop this all from happening. When she had been younger, he'd hoped for her to make some nice, easy-going, non-troublemaking friends, like Candace and Julius' daughter Angie or Toby and Renee's son Matt. Instead, she'd gravitated towards the son of an archaeologist. The archaeologist his wife had once dated – not that he was in any way still bitter about that; almost fifteen years had passed since then.

But his daughter was impressionable. When Chase had wanted her to stand by his side in the kitchen, Rosemary had other ideas. Her head had become filled with extravagant dreams, all thanks to that Heath kid. Going on adventures, finding hidden treasures, seeing the world. She wasn't even a teenager yet and she already itched to abandon her family.

It used to be so easy. A hug, a kiss, a colourful bandaid and a slice of her favourite strawberry shortcake; that was all it took to dry her tears. Now Rosemary wanted explanations, answers he couldn't give – _why do bad things happen, Daddy?_ When it came to the cold, honest truth, bad things happened because life was unfair. He had learnt that at too young an age. He wished his children would never have to know that ugly truth, but how could he possibly shield them forever?

"Daddy, is Rosie going to be okay?"

The small voice brought him back to the present and Chase glanced down. Oliver peered around the corner, his large violet eyes brimming with worry.

Chase suppressed his pain, pushed it from his mind. He was their father; he had to be strong for his children.

His mouth lifted into a gentle smile and he ruffled his son's hair, "Of course she is."

That much he truly believed. Rosemary, though she'd vehemently deny it, resembled her mother in more than just appearance – she was stronger than she looked, stronger than she herself believed.

It wasn't enough for him to stand on the sidelines, relying on his wife to make everything right again. Rosemary needed to know that, no matter what, she had _both_ her parents to turn to.

With this in mind, Chase treaded quietly across the room. He reached his daughter's bedside in a matter of strides and touched his wife's shoulder. The look of surprise on Holly's face sent a painful twinge through his heart, but it eased when she gave him an appreciative smile.

Holly stood up and Chase took her place, seated near the head of the bed. Whimpering, Rosemary curled away from him, and again, pain panged through his heart. He gently stroked his daughter's long hair; it was amazing to think that once she used to fit snugly into the crook of his arm, so small and vulnerable. A baby girl who needed her daddy to protect her.

"Rosie… I know, it feels like the end of the world now," Chase murmured softly. Rosemary's sobs quietened a little and her head lifted. Hope shined in her eyes. "But you'll make other friends."

A second too late, he realised it was the wrong thing to say.

Holly's look of approval turned sour.

Rosemary wailed, "I-I don't _want _other friends!"

Just like that, Chase became the stranger. His wife all but shoved him aside and he was left to watch from the sidelines again.

"Shh, Rosie… what Daddy meant to say is you'll make new friends but that doesn't mean you have to forget about Heath," Holly reassured their daughter – she was always so good at that, "You can still write to each other and talk over the phone…"

"I-It's… it's not the same."

"And you've got a month left to spend time together."

"A month isn't that long," Rosemary mumbled.

Holly began to rub her back, "You know, we could throw a big going away party for Heath and his family–"

"N-No!" Rosemary suddenly sat up, knocking Holly's hand away, "This is all Uncle Calvin's fault!" A fresh wave of tears choked her words and she fell forward into her mother's arms. "I-I hate Uncle Calvin!"

Involuntarily, Chase clenched his hand into a fist. _So do I._

"Why can't Heath stay here on Waffle Island? He could live here with us!"

"Like hell–"

Holly shot him a glare and the rest of Chase's words died on his lips.

Holly sighed, gently rocking their daughter from side to side. "Don't you think Uncle Calvin and Aunt Phoebe will be sad if Heath stays behind?" She said. Rosemary's sobs began to quieten as she took in the words. "And Heath would be sad too, wouldn't he? Not being with his parents."

Rosemary lifted her head. She stared at her mother; her purple eyes were reddened around the edges, but shone with intensity and innocence.

"But he'd have me."

* * *

><p>Holly emerged from their children's bedroom, looking worn out and defeated. "They're both asleep, finally," She announced.<p>

Chase exhaled in relief. Rosemary would be free from her anguish in her dreams. At least, until morning arrived.

Escaping to his dreams sounded like a good idea. After everything that happened in the afternoon, he just wanted to crawl into bed next to his wife and pretend this never happened. But he could see the worry still in Holly's eyes – she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, too anxious over what tomorrow would bring.

"Tea?"

Holly jolted to attention, "Huh?"

Chase stepped forward and he pulled her towards him. They stood together for a moment, his lips pressed to the crown of her head and her face buried in his shirt. "Come on, I'll make you some tea," He murmured.

They headed to the kitchen. Chase went about making the tea, setting out two cups while he waited for the water to boil. It was earlier than he thought – nine o'clock; at this hour, his own house felt like a mystery. Normally, when he'd come home from work at midnight or later, a veil of complete silence muffled the rooms. Every movement he'd make sounded painfully amplified, as if he were the only man left in the world.

When Holly spoke up, it took him by surprise.

"Thank you for leaving work early," She was saying, "I know it must've been busy."

He shrugged a shoulder, "Maya insisted that Kevin could handle it."

There must've been a sceptical note to his words. Holly chuckled softly, "Don't worry, he knows his way around the kitchen. Angela would've starved in college if it hadn't been for his cooking."

"He'd better not put me out of the job."

She giggled again. Chase poured a share of the water into a teapot, added the dried leaves and waited another moment for it to steep. He then retrieved the honey.

"It really meant a lot to Rosie that you were here," Holly said.

_Even though I practically told her to forget about her best friend?_ His fingers clenched around the spoon, as he violently dolloped a teaspoon of honey into the bottom of each cup.

Holly missed his self-directed irritation. She hummed in thought. "Calvin never mentioned anything about going back to work overseas. Did he say something to you?"

"Nothing I can think of," He murmured. While his jealousy had long evaporated, Chase liked to keep his interactions with Calvin Jones to a minimum, tolerating him at best.

"I wish he'd given us some warning at least."

Chase poured the tea and finished it all off with a squirt of lemon juice. He handed a cup to Holly and she followed him out into the living room. They sunk down onto the sofa with a near simultaneous sigh. For a moment, the silence was allowed to reign.

His wife stared into her tea, "This situation just breaks my heart. Can you believe those two have been best friends for almost their entire lives?"

"I still have trouble believing Rosie is going to be a teenager in a few months."

"Don't remind me," Holly groaned, "Why do they have to grow up so fast?"

"Maybe we're just getting old." Chase laughed when he received a playful slap on the arm.

It was true though. Twelve years seemed to pass by in a flash; soon enough, Rosemary would be eighteen, an adult, and then what? She'd leave the island, fall in love, have children of her own – his little girl no longer. Chase cupped his hand tighter around his mug.

"Do you remember when they got into a fight with some boys from the mainland?" Holly suddenly said, "They were teasing Rosie and Heath jumped to defend her. He ended up with a black-eye and Rosie punched one of the boys in the nose…"

The memory brought a smile to his wife's face, but Chase couldn't place it. That happened too often nowadays. His memories of his family were quickly being replaced by long nights spent in the Sundae Inn's kitchen. The children he now knew were strangers. And he barely remembered how to talk to Holly.

Conversation came to a standstill as they focused on sipping their tea.

To think, a few years ago, Chase would've given everything he possessed just for a moment like this, with no screaming baby, no mischievous toddlers bouncing off the walls and pulling pots and pans from the cupboards, no siblings squabbling over who looked at whom the wrong way; just he and his wife enjoying some quiet time alone.

He wished the house would breathe again.

* * *

><p>Clutching his blanket to his chin, Oliver's heart pounded in his ears. Something was in the room with him. Definitely not Rosemary and not Finn either.<p>

He could hear it scratching around on the floor and the walls, bumping into the window. Lights danced across the ceiling. His first thought was: bogeyman. Maybe ghosts. Lucy said the church graveyard was haunted – she'd seen it herself, at the New Years Eve festival; a ghost had waved at her from the church bell tower.

The noises were getting louder, closer. What should he do? Cry. Scream. Or be brave. He was almost ten years old now – it was time to be brave.

Oliver took a deep breath. The creature was right below his bed, mumbling and grumbling, looking for who knows what. He quietly sat up, making sure not to rustle the covers, and peered over the edge of the mattress. Through the darkness, he could see a blob poking out from under his bed. This was his chance.

Oliver leapt out of bed – well, it was more of a roll because his foot got caught on his blanket. Still, he fell on top of the monster and trapped it in place.

"Gotcha!" Oliver declared triumphantly. He couldn't wait to tell Lucy he caught the bogeyman.

"Get off me!" It cried, struggling under his weight.

Not the voice of a monster, but: "R... Rosie?"

They were stuck for a little while – it was too dark to see which limb had landed where – but eventually Rosemary shoved him off. Oliver winced when she shined a flashlight right into his eyes.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She demanded.

"I thought you were the bogeyman!" He exclaimed, "And you said the 'h' word."

"So what? I've heard Daddy say way worse words when he thinks we're not listening."

Oliver got to his knees; it was still too dark to really see anything, but with the glow of the flashlight and his eyes slowly adjusting to the difference in light, he could make out the shapes of Rosemary, her school backpack and the stuff she'd thrown about on the floor.

"Wha–" The rest of Oliver's sentence was swallowed by a yawn, "Are ya doing?"

"Nothing," His sister replied at once.

"Doesn't look like nothing."

"Just go back to bed."

"I'll tell Mama."

That worked. Rosemary seemed torn between punching him to death and ripping his head off. When she moved, Oliver cowered away and braced himself for the pain. Instead, she just reached over to grab her backpack. "I'm going to run away with Heath," She muttered.

"No!"

"Shut up!" Aiming to close his mouth, Rosemary accidentally smacked him in the face and he yelped even louder. They froze, waiting to see if Mama and Daddy would burst through the door – the only sound they heard was Finn's loud snoring.

Rosemary sighed, "I have to. It's the only way we'll get to stay together."

Oliver's stomach twisted and turned, like it was filled with butterflies. "You can't run away. We're on an island!"

"I know that, I'm not _dumb_," His sister said, "But once a week, Captain Pascal takes his boat to the mainland to make deliveries and stuff. We'll stowaway and go live in the city, or maybe even Harmonica Town…"

"I want to come with."

"You can't."

"Why not? I'm Heath's friend too."

"Yeah, but I'm his _best_ friend."

Oliver pouted. It was so unfair that she hogged Heath all to herself. (Angie said Rosemary did that because she had a crush on him, but that was really gross because Heath was like their brother.)

"Anyway, one of us has to stay behind, so Mama and Daddy... so they won't be, y'know..." Rosie trailed off. She whispered the last word, "lonely."

He couldn't help it; tears started to prickle at his eyes, "What about me? I'll be all alone if you go!"

"No, you won't. You have Mama and Daddy, and Finn, and everyone at school..."

"Won't you be lonely then?" Oliver cut in.

His big sister went quiet for a minute. "No way," She scoffed, "I'll have Heath." She took her flashlight and backpack, crawling to the other side of the room in search of something else she needed for her journey.

"…I'll miss you."

Rosemary stopped packing. Even in the darkness, he knew there was sadness in her eyes.

"I'll miss you too, Ollie."


	3. Rebirth

Because I love you guys so much, I've spent the majority of my Easter holidays writing ;)

I'm glad everyone likes the story so far! I was worried that Rosemary and Oliver would be too boring and sound too old. I don't really remember how to think like a kid… omg now I sound too old. :')

So anyway, this is one of those flashback chapters I talked about. I labelled the flashback part as 'then'; I hope it doesn't seem too awkward or anything?

* * *

><p><strong>For All We Know<strong>

Chase stumbled through the darkened house. Just moments ago, he'd been lost in a pleasant slumber, when suddenly a loud pounding noise had shaken him awake. The sound continued, thump, thump, thump, for an entire minute, before Holly had kicked him out of bed to investigate.

It was only after he entered the living room that he realised someone was knocking at the front door. He squinted through the shadows towards the clock on the wall; after midnight. Who the hell would be visiting at this hour?

Probably some idiot who'd gotten drunk and couldn't find his way home – in other words Luke or Owen. He grumbled a few words he wasn't allowed to say in proximity of the kids, then finally worked up the willpower to answer the door.

Calvin Jones was standing on his front step. Even after all these years, fate still liked to toy with him.

"What do you want?" Chase asked flatly.

"Heath's missing," Calvin replied, breathless. He must've run all the way from his house. "And either he's here, or Rosemary is missing too."

Chase prepared to close the door in the archaeologist's face, "Sorry, but I haven't seen your kid, and Rosemary is sound asleep–"

Calvin wedged his foot in between the door and the frame. Challenge was written all over his features. "Maybe you should check first."

Chase swore under his breath and let him inside. He left Calvin in the living room as he quickly made his way down the hallway towards the children's bedroom. Damn Joneses were nothing but trouble; they couldn't even control their twelve year old son!

As quietly as he could, he turned the doorknob and opened the door a crack, peering inside. Oliver was sprawled across his bed, with his blankets half hanging off the side – calm as he was when he was awake, he was a restless sleeper. And Rosemary...

An empty bed. His eyes darted around the room: an upturned pot plant and dirt strewn across the floor, and an open window.

Gone.

Another forbidden phrase escaped his lips.

"D… Daddy?"

Oliver slowly lifted his head, rubbing at his eyes.

The next second, Chase was by his son's bedside. He bent down, quickly rearranged the blankets and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Sorry Olive, go back to sleep," He whispered.

He didn't wait to see if Oliver would obey. With a million pessimistic thoughts racing through his mind, Chase hurried back out to the hall – a sharp stab of pain shot straight up his leg when he stepped on a toy car – and instinctively turned left in the direction of his bedroom.

Chase stopped himself just in time: should he tell Holly? She'd spent an hour tossing and turning until sleep finally found her. Maybe he could fix this before morning came. Hopefully.

Calvin was still waiting in the living room, sitting on the couch. At the sound of Chase's approaching footsteps, he turned his head and his expression said enough – _I told you so._ The nerve of him; this was all his damn kid's fault. But if he wanted to find Rosemary before sunrise, he'd need the other man's help.

"So what do we do?"

The archaeologist stood up. He started to pace back and forth, kneading the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and his thumb. "They couldn't have gone too far… we can go out and look around. Check their favourite hiding places."

Chase nodded, but the panic was quickly rising within him. Two children, wandering around the island at this hour, all alone – it inspired memories of another night spent searching through the snow for someone he loved. "And if we don't find them?"

He received no reply. Calvin made the first move towards the door, and Chase had no choice but to follow.

* * *

><p><em>Then<em>

Whenever someone asked Chase, "What is your biggest dream in life?" most of the time he'd reply with, "to become a professional chef."

To anyone who knew him it seemed like the obvious answer, but in all honestly, it was a lie. Yes, cooking was his passion but he was confident that he already had what it took to be a professional. If he truly wanted to, he could return to the mainland and apply for a job at some big name restaurant, rise through the ranks and become the head chef.

But he was content enough with his job at the Sundae Inn, and he liked it here on Waffle Island. Sure, everyone was overly friendly and constantly poking their nose into his business, but they were real and hardworking, not seeking out fame or fortune. Just wanting to be happy.

Chase had never expected to find so many things on Waffle Island: friendship, love, happiness, all from the same person. Holly.

Holly understood that his dreams extended beyond cooking. She knew what he wanted, because she wanted the same thing. Someone to spend the rest of your days with. A warm house with plenty of room, a place to call home. A family. Everyone's vision of the perfect life.

There hadn't been any verbal agreement when they decided to have kids. Just signs: the way Holly's whole face lit up when she held Jin and Anissa's infant son Van, the wistful sigh she breathed when she had to hand him back, the softness that clouded her eyes when she caught sight of the baby accessory display set up in the Chiffon Tailor window. They had been married for a year and a half and had saved up some more money; it felt right.

But then, another year went by and nothing. Around them, everyone else's lives had moved forward: Renee was expecting now, due next spring; Kathy and Owen were engaged; Calvin had found a new love in Phoebe (thank god); Angela and Gill had called it quits but remained friends. They had moments of hope, when Holly had gone to the clinic in anticipation but returned with disappointment weighing down her entire body. Every time, he saw the guilt in her eyes – even though it had been years since the accident, he knew she still blamed herself.

Eventually, they stopped hoping, stopped looking to the future with excitement. If it happens, it happens; these words kept them afloat, kept them going.

Even so, they could feel themselves slipping.

* * *

><p>One morning, Holly entered the kitchen, looking pale and more weary than usual.<p>

Chase felt his eyebrows come together. She had lingered in the bathroom for a while longer than normal today; when he'd checked on her, he found her with her head poised over the toilet.

"Are sure you're feeling okay?" He asked as he plated up their breakfast – pancakes, Holly's favourite.

"Never better," She replied, sitting down at the table.

After one final dusting of icing sugar, Chase carried their breakfast and a jug of blueberry sauce over to the table. He placed a plate in front of Holly, then took a seat across from her.

Based on the way Holly grimaced at the sight, you would've thought he'd given her a lemon rather than pancakes.

"You're not okay," Chase said.

"I am feeling a little under the weather…" His wife tried her best to smile. "But it's nothing to worry about! Maybe it was just something I ate?"

He crossed his arms, "I'm insulted by the insinuation."

Holly laughed softly. Chase stood up and stepped around the table. He took her hand, pulling her to her feet. "We're going to the clinic."

"I told you, it's okay," She insisted.

"We're going to the clinic, all right?" A little firmer.

Holly sighed, "You're not taking no for an answer, are you?"

Chase squeezed her hand. "Humour me. Please."

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the Meringue Clinic, just in time too because Irene was opening the doors for the day. There were no other appointments that morning, so Irene said to go straight in to see Doctor Jin. Holly obliged; Chase followed her. Holly gave him a look that told him to stay behind. Chase obediently took a seat in the foyer.

Minutes crawled to seconds as he waited for his wife's reappearance. He knotted his fingers together, alternating between watching Irene shuffle papers around her desk and staring at the clock. The faint cries of a baby broke the silence for a little while – Van must've woken up or maybe he was hungry. Finally, after half an hour, the exam room door opened and Holly poked her head out, gesturing for Chase to come in.

A knot of apprehension formed in his stomach when he sat down beside her in front of Jin. The doctor took a moment to exchange the usual, routine pleasantries, but Chase was getting impatient.

"It's nothing serious, is it?" He murmured.

"Well, medically speaking, no," Doctor Jin said, "In fact, Holly, you have nothing to worry about at all. The symptoms you've been experiencing are very normal, even expected you could say."

Chase's lips parted in a silent gasp. He tried to look at Holly, but she was staring into her lap.

Jin smiled, "Congratulations you two, you're going to have a baby."

"A… baby?" Chase tested the weight of the words in his mouth, "You're… we… we're really going to be parents?"

Holly lifted her head and their gazes locked. He saw the fear in her eyes, just as he knew she could see it in his. What they had been wanting for more than a year was now a reality; they should've been overjoyed, but both of their thoughts immediately turned to the past.

The doctor gave them some prenatal information and a recommendation to go to a hospital on the mainland for a complete check up. They thanked him, said their goodbyes and began the silent journey back to the farm.

When they were home, Chase gathered Holly into his arms. The scent of flowers and hay filled his senses. She clung to his shirt, resting her head on his chest. It took him a second to realise she was trembling.

He always thought that when it happened, he'd want to shout it from the rooftops. For the first few weeks, however, neither really wanted to acknowledge it. Even after the third month, when the chance of complications significantly decreased, they kept quiet, only revealing the news to Holly's family.

It was only when, halfway through her forth month, Holly turned down Kathy's offer of the cocktail menu that anyone suspected it – mainly because Maya had screamed, "Oh my gosh, you're pregnant!" in front of practically the entire town. With everyone eagerly awaiting the confirmation, they had no choice but to comply.

That moment, though unwanted, changed everything. Their neighbours and friends were thrilled by the announcement. The mothers gave Holly tips and tricks for warding off the pregnancy woes, the fathers would clap Chase on the shoulder and tried to instill fear within him (in a good-natured way, of course). With so much support and love, they could finally let themselves believe that everything would be all right.

Weeks passed, too slowly at times, too quickly at others. On some mornings, Holly was too sick to work and Chase would have to take up the role of farmer, watering the crops and flowers (he often looked like a drowned rat afterwards) and feeding Bessie and the chickens (he wouldn't dare try to hold them; those chickens were demonic). He made a terrible farmer, but what else could he do? He didn't want her overworking herself.

Day by day, the bump on Holly's abdomen was expanding. It amazed Chase that he could _see_ their child growing. A boy or a girl – which would it be, everyone wondered? He never told his wife, but he hoped for a little girl. Never would be good with a boy (just imagine him playing football or basketball!).

But girl or boy, the only thing that really mattered was that the baby was healthy.

* * *

><p>"Chase! Chase, wake up!"<p>

The sound of Holly's voice immediately jolted him from slumber. Lost under the haze of night, his first thought was: _it's time_. But it couldn't be. She was only twenty-two weeks along. Panic took over and his heart began to pound. Something had to be wrong; oh god, what if she was bleeding–

Holly reached out and took his hand. She brought it to her stomach. Nothing seemed to be happening, but then…

A gentle bump against the palm of his hand, so soft it felt like a feather had brushed his skin. Chase gasped, fully awake now, "T-The baby is…!"

Holly was giggling, "This is the first time she's kicked so hard."

"She?" The movement stopped for a minute. Chase pawed her belly with both hands in hopes of feeling their baby again, "You think it's a girl?"

"Well, I can't be sure," Holly murmured, "But it feels weird to call our baby 'it' all the time."

"I wonder when we should start thinking of names..."

"You haven't started already?"

Chase cleared his throat, "Actually... I have, but I meant discussing it."

"What did you have in mind?"

"If we have a girl… Angelica, Sage, Anise, Lavender… Rosemary."

There was a chuckle.

"What? Don't you like my suggestions?"

"No, it's just… they're all names of herbs and spices."

Chase felt a flush crawling up his neck; it was a good thing she couldn't see, "I'm a chef. I can't help it."

"I think it's very fitting," Holly said. He knew she was smiling. "But what if the baby's a boy?"

"Yeah, that was harder."

His wife laughed again, which made the baby kick. He wondered if this would ever start feeling real.

"...I used to dream that we had a little girl," Chase whispered to the darkness.

Holly overlapped his hand with hers. There was no sensation more comforting than her warmth. "So did I."

They lay down again, with Chase pressed close to Holly's back and his arm draped around her waist. His hand remained resting against her abdomen. As he waited for sleep to take him again, his son or daughter continued to move, a soft, fluttering sensation against his skin.

Almost as if their baby were reassuring him.

* * *

><p>The message came when Chase was in the middle of sautéing some onions.<p>

"Holly's in labour."

He spun around and the hot pan almost tumbled to the ground. "W-What? Holly's… in labour?"

Colleen nodded quickly, "The Meringue Clinic just called."

For a few seconds, his mind went blank and he froze. The baby would be born soon. Suddenly, those nine months didn't seem a long enough time to prepare. Did they have everything ready? Months ago, they had set up the crib in their bedroom, which Chase still stubbed his toe on every morning. Candace had made them several little outfits, all in pastel yellows. They had bottles and towels and… diapers! How could he have forgotten?

Yolanda shoved him aside, immediately jolting him back to reality, "Don't just stand there! Go!"

Chase didn't need to be told twice. Encouraged by a chorus of cheers from the patrons and Maya's excited squeals, he burst through the Sundae Inn's doors and took off running down the street.

The Meringue Clinic wasn't that far away, but the roads felt stretched, five miles too long. At long last, the pale blue and white building appeared at the end of the street. Chase could barely breathe, but he made it inside. Anissa was waiting; she pointed to a room down the hall. He didn't even stop to say thank you.

Chase threw open the door, half expecting Holly to be screaming or for their baby to be born already.

"H-Holly!" He wheezed, "Came… as soon as I heard…"

What he came upon was Holly hunched over the side of the bed, clutching the sheets tightly between her fingers. Calvin stood next to her, his hand rubbing her lower back. "You're doing great… just breathe…" The archaeologist murmured soothingly.

No one noticed Chase's presence until the pain subsided and Holly was able to stand upright. She finally caught sight of her husband lingering in the doorway.

"Chase… you're here," She said, relief and tears threatening to swallow her words. Chase immediately crossed the room and took his wife into his arms. This last trimester had been the most difficult; when she wasn't sick, she was too tired and more uncomfortable than he could imagine. Every little thing frustrated her or upset her – she hadn't been able to make it through the entirety of Calvin and Phoebe's wedding because it had been so overwhelming. To think, after all that, it would soon be over.

"I guess that's my cue to leave," Calvin spoke up, bringing the moment to an end.

Holly peered over Chase's shoulder, "Thank you, Calvin."

The archaeologist tipped his hat and slipped out the door. At long last, they had some privacy.

Chase gazed at his wife, brushing her sweat-dampened hair away from her eyes. Even though exhaustion and pain were wearing her down, she had never looked more beautiful than this moment now. Unable to help himself, he leaned forward and gently kissed Holly's lips. They pulled apart and his wife gave him a smile.

"You're still in your apron."

Chase grinned, "I almost came here wearing sautéed onions."

Holly managed a chuckle. She eased herself onto the bed, holding her large stomach.

"Well, you'd better sit back and get comfortable. It's going to be awhi–" Holly's face suddenly contorted. She reached for Chase's hand, closing her fingers tightly around his, as she forced herself to inhale and exhale in steady succession.

"Are you okay?" He fretted. If only he had the mind to repeat Calvin's soothing words.

A few seconds later – which felt like an eternity – Holly could breathe easy again. "I've had worse," She joked weakly.

"When did the contractions start?" Chase asked.

Her brow furrowed in thought, "Maybe… early this morning? Before you left for work."

Without meaning it, accusation seeped into his voice, "And you didn't tell me?"

"I knew it'd be a long time before anything happened…"

"I still could've stayed with you."

"I didn't want you to worry." Holly squeezed his hand, "I thought I was fine, but then my water broke and Calvin insisted we go–"

"_He's_ been with you this whole time?" Chase stood up and walked over to the other side of the room. Who was the father in this situation?

"Chase… Chase, please don't be mad." He heard her voice crack with emotion and his anger instantly dissipated. Chase was back at his wife's side, with his arms around her shoulders.

"I'm... I'm not. I'm just..." He sighed into her hair, "What if you'd had the baby on the front door step?"

Holly half-sniffled, half-laughed, "It would've been a funny story to tell at their twenty-first birthday?"

There was no need to worry about that, however. Her labour continued on for another three hours with no sign of the baby. Aside for massaging her back or holding her hand and refilling her cup of ice chips, there wasn't much Chase could do.

Doctor Jin was examining her, for what hopefully was the last time. Holly moaned as another contraction rippled through her abdomen. Each was a minute apart now and lasting even longer. Fourteen hours of labour – Chase wished it could have been as quick as it seemed on television.

And then, sure enough: "All right Holly, it's time," Jin announced.

"R… Really?" She glanced at her husband, excitement, fear and exhaustion etched into her expression.

"Chase, please wait outside," Irene ordered, as she shuffled in holding a bundle of towels.

He opened his mouth to protest, but Jin placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "She'll be fine, don't worry."

Chase was escorted back out into the waiting room. He turned around for one last glimpse of his wife. Through the chaos, he met Holly's eyes and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"I love you, Holly," He whispered.

And then the door fell closed.

* * *

><p>Waiting rooms were the worst, second only to the ICU ward. Chase couldn't sit still; he strode from one side of the room, back to the other, then retraced his steps another five times.<p>

"You're going to wear a groove in the floor."

Aside for walking around, he had the choice of staring at the broken clock on the wall (he swore, those hands moved backwards) and talking to, of all people on Waffle Island, the man he hated most.

Why Calvin had felt the need to come back, he had no idea. Didn't he have a job, his own business to attend to, his own _wife_?

"Thanks for staying with her," Chase forced out, fighting to keep his tone even, "I'm here now. You can leave."

"It's good experience," Calvin said, "Now it won't seem as frightening when I'll have to go through it…"

Chase came to an abrupt stop. "Are you saying…?"

A grin pulled at the other man's lips, "Phoebe is pregnant too. Three months."

"You work fast." Considering that was how long they'd been married.

Chase resumed his pacing. When he looped around and walked back towards the seats, Calvin stopped him.

"Look, Chase, I know we can never be friends–" The archaeologist began.

"Damn right," He shot back, "You almost broke my nose."

"If I remember correctly, _you_ attacked _me_ first."

Adrenaline, from the anger and nerves, pulsed through his veins and his hands clenched into fists. "Just what the hell were you doing with my wife?" Chase growled. "_I_ should've been by her side, helping her."

"After I brought Holly here, I was planning to go to the Inn to tell you, but she didn't want to be alone," Calvin explained calmly, "You know what she's like."

He did. Still, Chase gritted his teeth, suppressing the urge to strike out.

The older man sighed, "There's no need to feel threatened. Holly and I... we're just friends."

"Why should I trust what you say?" Chase spat.

"You don't have to. But you trust your wife, don't you?"

Memories flashed through his mind. Letter fragments, a ripped photograph and Holly's tears. A tremble travelled down his arm and his fists unfurled.

His words were a whisper, "Of course I do…"

"For Holly's sake, let's try to at least be civil around each other." Calvin took a step forward and held out his hand. Another peace offering, just like that night at their wedding party.

Chase stared warily at the outstretched hand.

_This is for Holly's sake_, he repeated to himself, before he reached out and reluctantly accepted the handshake.

"It's for the best." Calvin gave him a crooked smile, "I mean, who knows? One day our children could be the best of friends."

"Like hell I'm going to let that happen."

* * *

><p>Crying.<p>

Chase never knew that a sound so anguished could bring such happiness.

He barely heard what Irene had said when she emerged from the delivery room, but his legs automatically carried him across the foyer towards her.

The first thing he saw was Holly, sitting upright, cradling a bundle swathed in a white cloth. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead with sweat and tears trailed down her cheeks, but her eyes were alert, full of love and awe.

Somehow he made it to her side without fainting.

"Chase… look," She whispered, "We have… we have a daughter."

Chase stared at the bundle in a trance. A small person, tinged an unnatural shade of pink and slightly wet – with what he didn't want to know. A tuft of peach blond hair. A face, which had been scrunched with tears, now calm and peaceful, her eyes closed. Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.

The most beautiful baby he'd ever seen.

"Do you want to hold her?"

He snapped to attention. Holly shifted her position so that he could take their daughter. Part of his mind screamed _run!_ He couldn't touch someone so tiny, so fragile, so perfect.

But the other part, the one that was overwhelmed with so much love it felt like he would burst, instinctively reached out. Holly placed their daughter into the crook of his arm, where she fit so naturally. Her daddy's arms – where she would always belong.

"She's… she's so small…" Tears blurred his sight; Chase quickly wiped them away but more simply surfaced in their place. "S… She looks just like you. So beautiful."

Holly leaned back into her pillows with a happy sigh. "I think we should call her Rosemary," She said softly.

"Rosemary," He echoed. His little girl stirred and slowly opened her eyes. For the first time, he saw their colour: purple, just like his.

A herb and a flower. What name would be more fitting?

Rocking side to side, Chase pressed a gentle kiss to his newborn daughter's forehead.

"Welcome to the world, Rosemary Baker."


	4. Remorse

Thank you guys for all the reviews :D I love you all so much!

I'm sorry for breaking Angela and Gill up. I didn't want Holly's family to overrun the island with random children lol, so it came down to either Gill/Angela or Kevin/Maya :')

* * *

><p><strong>For All We Know<strong>

Heath liked to know facts. Why the sky and sea were blue; what made the grass green; how come a rainbow appeared after it rained – these things happened everyday, but no one took the time to question it.

Very few others shared his fascination with the world, sadly. Roy called him a nerd. Which didn't bother him, really. If Heath was a nerd, then that meant his father was a nerd too, and Dad was the coolest person ever (no exaggeration; Rosemary said it all the time, so it must've been true). Dad got to travel all around the world because of his job, to places like the desert and small villages in the rainforest, investigating old tombs and digging up ancient relics. And he never forgot to bring back awesome souvenirs.

But it was always sad when Dad had to leave. Heath and his mother would wake up extra early in the morning so they could see him off at the pier. Sometimes, his father would be gone for a really long time, and that upset Heath. When that happened, Dad got down on his knees and pulled him into a big, warm hug. "One day," he'd say, "I promise we'll all go on an adventure together."

Heath thought Dad was just telling one of those 'parent lies' – like when he was a little kid and they said that Santa Claus truly did exist and it was the tooth fairy who left that dollar under his pillow. The thought of travelling made his heart race – how awesome would it be to see a real life mummy? – but at the same time, he liked being home on Waffle Island. Here he had his mother, grandparents, school, friends and Rosemary; all he ever really wanted.

Dad had looked so excited when he announced that the Joneses would be leaving Waffle Island to live somewhere on the other side of the world. Mum, on the other hand, had been shocked and it didn't take long for the anger to win over (Mum would've been excited too, but she and Dad had one of their 'heated discussions' earlier that month; it must've been a really big one too, because ever since then Dad had been sleeping on the sofa). Her red rimmed glasses had amplified the hardness in her eyes, and she pulled Dad over to the side to talk quietly out of Heath's earshot. He still heard his mother's harsh whispers, "…are you thinking? Moving away won't fix anything!" Dad attempted to touch her, but she jerked away. There had been a sigh and his father had spoken, "I know, but we have to try. Please, Phoebe."

While his parents continued to argue, Heath was overwhelmed by the million questions buzzing around his thoughts – Where would they be moving to? What kind of new and interesting facts would he learn there? How long would they be staying?

A pair of purple eyes suddenly came to mind and his chest constricted painfully. What about Rosemary?

Rosemary Baker was his best friend, the person he was closest to in the world (minus Dad and Mum); she was like a sister, but better because they didn't fight over silly things and never annoyed each other. His first memory, his first word, his first everything – it was all Rosemary.

The tears had started then and wouldn't stop. Not even his parents could make it better.

Things got even worse the next day, when Rosemary found out. First, she cried too, for hours, until her eyes were bloodshot and her voice went all scratchy. And then, she got mad – mostly at Dad. "It's not fair!" She'd yelled and took her frustration out on a pillow with her fist (Rosie had a scary temper sometimes; Dad said she got that from Uncle Chase).

Her anger eventually turned into determination. Rosemary had sat up straight, staring defiantly into the distance. "We have to find a way to stay together," She declared.

"But how?" Heath asked.

Rosemary thought for a minute, "We… we can run away!"

After that, Heath had barely had any say. Rosemary had it all planned out. They would sneak out of their rooms at midnight, go to the pier and hide out on Captain Pascal's ship until it departed for the mainland in the morning. From there, they could go anywhere they wanted, just the two of them.

The mainland; Heath had been there once, a few years ago, when Dad had to go to a museum to be a part of an exhibition. There were mummies and sarcophagi, and Dad even got his picture taken for a newspaper article. Rosemary had begged her parents to go, but her father had said no way. (Sometimes Heath thought that Uncle Chase didn't like him very much. Dad told him not to worry though, because Uncle Chase didn't like _anyone… _well, except for Aunty Holly, Rosemary and Oliver_._)

So with their plan perfected, all that was left to do was to wait for nightfall to come.

Heath checked over his backpack one last time. It was full of supplies necessary for an adventure: a map, a flashlight, the blanket from his bed, his favourite book, a canteen of water and the candy and chocolate Grandma had given him yesterday when Grandpa wasn't looking. With a confident nod, Heath zipped up the bag, slipped his arms through the straps and lifted it onto his shoulders.

He'd left a letter on his bedside table addressed to Mum and Dad. Rosie said that he couldn't say goodbye to his parents, not face to face. If he did, they would cry and stop him, and they would never see each other again. Still, he was going to miss Dad and Mum, and Grandma and Grandpa, and Molly too…

Heath almost jumped out of his skin when there was a knock at the window. He spun around and saw Rosemary peering at him over the windowsill.

It was time.

The window creaked when Heath started to wedge it open; what if Mum or Dad heard? His heart was already beating so fast, it felt like it would explode out of his chest.

An eternity later, the window was opened wide enough for him to crawl though. His backpack went through first, which Rosemary took, and Heath followed, hoisting himself onto the ledge. He eased his body through the gap and one foot touched the ground, then the other.

The night air was cool and Heath shivered a little as Rosemary handed the rucksack back.

"Ready for an adventure?" She asked with a grin.

Heath tried to return the smile, but his attention was pulled elsewhere, towards the window and the warmth of his bedroom, the home he'd grown up in, with the family he loved.

Rosemary's grin faded. Her eyebrows came together into a frown, "What's the matter?"

Heath looked down at his feet, "Is this… really such a good idea?" He mumbled.

Her words pierced his heart: "I thought you wanted to stay with me forever."

"I-I did! I mean, I do! But…" Heath glanced over his shoulder again, "Are you sure we'll be okay, Rosie?"

"Of course!" She assured, "Don't you trust me?"

Heath nodded, a little too quickly.

Rosemary could not be fooled – she always saw right through him when he pretended. But instead of getting angry, she reached out towards him, with her hand outstretched.

Heath had seen the gesture many times, and he never once refused her. Their hands met, their fingers intertwined, the touch of her skin feeling warm and familiar.

It was strange. He'd spent so much time going over and over it in his head, but still Heath was never able to figure it out: how could Rosemary make his heart beat too fast and too slow, all at the same time?

* * *

><p>"Rosemary! Heath!"<p>

Chase and Calvin called out into the dark of night, but the only reply they received came from the echo of their own voices.

It shouldn't have been this difficult. They were just a pair of twelve-year-olds and the island was only small; how had they managed to outsmart their fathers?

Having searched everywhere from the trees in the Gelato Fields, to the Ganache Mine, to the cave hidden behind town, Chase and Calvin were quickly running out of options. Where else could they have gone? Chase certainly had no idea; the little girl he knew wouldn't have ever contemplated doing something like this in the first place. When he found Rosemary, he was going to lock her in her room and not let her out until she was twenty – no, thirty-five.

The lighthouse was their next destination – Calvin said he'd heard the children talking about a Wizard or some other nonsense (The Harvest Goddess was one thing, but a _wizard?_). The archaeologist led the way through Waffle Town, and Chase sullenly trailed after him, growing more and more irritated by the fact that he had nothing better to offer. Holly must've realised something was wrong by now; mother's intuition, she called it. Chase had his own intuition. It sat in the pit of his stomach, weighing him down, the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong if he didn't find Rosemary soon.

The temperature dropped a few more degrees and the scent of salt hung in the air, signs that the beach was not too far away. Chase increased his pace, moving in front of Calvin, the anxious feeling worsening with every step he took.

And just as he feared, a piercing cry shattered the stillness of the night.

"Help us! Please! Somebody!"

"Heath," Calvin breathed.

Chase ran off ahead, following Heath's frantic calls. Halfway across the beach, he spotted the boy's silhouette on the pier, near the ship that belonged to Captain Pascal. His legs ached and his lungs burned but he forced himself to go on, until finally, he made it.

The sight stopped his heart. Heath was crouched at the end of the dock, desperately trying to keep a hold on the pair of hands that clung to the edge. A backpack floated off into the distance. His daughter dangled from the ledge, her feet almost swallowed by the dark abyssal sea below her.

_Move, move,_ Chase's mind screamed at him, _you need to help her!_ but he remained frozen to the spot, helpless.

It was only when Calvin pushed him aside that he came to his senses. He watched as the archaeologist got to his knees beside his son and reached over the side. With swift ease, Calvin was able to lift Rosemary back to safety. She seemed shaken, tears cascading down her cheeks, but physically unharmed.

Relief momentarily triumphing over fear and anger, Chase rushed forward. "Rosie!"

"D-Daddy…" She sniffled.

He took his daughter into his arms, and she sobbed into his shirt, trembling violently under his hold. "It's okay sweetie, it's okay… you're safe now," He murmured as he gently stroked her hair.

When Rosemary's tears had dried, she pulled away from her father's embrace and stared at her shoes. No matter how much she tried to deny it, she was still a child and the possibility of a scolding was one of the hardest things for her to face.

Chase tried to keep his temper at bay, but now that Rosemary was safe, his irritation and exhaustion were getting the better of him.

"Just… what were you two thinking?" He asked his daughter.

Rosemary shuffled on the spot. "I–"

"It was my fault," Heath spoke up. Both father and daughter looked at the little boy. Even in the darkness, he held Chase's stare as best he could. "I asked her to come with me. She didn't do anything wrong."

"Heath…" Calvin said softly.

Chase sighed, shaking his head. Thank god, he wouldn't have to worry about this kid and his bad influence for much longer. He placed a hand on Rosemary's shoulder, "Come on Rosie, let's go home."

"No." Rosemary jumped backwards to avoid his touch. She ran to the other side of the pier, where Calvin and his son stood. "I want to stay with Heath."

A surge of anger awoke at her defiance. "You've caused enough trouble tonight," He forced out calmly, crossing the deck, "We're going home."

"No!"

"Chase, maybe she can stay at our place for the night," Calvin cut in, "When everyone calms down, we could all have a talk–"

"Don't tell me how to handle my kid," Chase hissed.

Before Calvin could butt in again, Chase reached for his daughter's arm, "Rosemary Baker, you are coming home with me right this instant–!"

Rosemary tried to twist away but she was too late; her father's fingers wrapped around her wrist. Screaming, "Let me go, let me go!" she dug her feet in the ground as he pulled her forward. It became a fight for dominance, not one that Rosemary had any chance at winning, but she was giving it her best shot, trying to kick and punch her way to freedom.

"Stop it Rosemary!"

"Just leave me alone! You don't care about me anyway!" She cried.

"Would I have been out here looking for you if I didn't care?" Chase shot back.

"Shut up!" Rosemary hit her father again, "I hate you!"

Chase halted, letting go of her arm. Father and daughter stood facing each other, a showdown. Minutes ticked by. The faint moonlight illuminated Rosemary's face, her shoulders rising and falling as she forced herself to breathe through her fury, her teary violet eyes reflecting the emotion of her words; where did his sweet little girl, the one who loved her mama and daddy more than anything in the world, disappear to?

A hard lump formed in his throat. He swallowed it and fought to keep his voice from wavering, "You can't say that to me. I'm your father."

Rosemary's tone was icy, "Sometimes I wish you weren't."

* * *

><p><em>Then<em>

"Our daughter hates me."

At the proclamation, Holly turned around from her position at the kitchen counter and gave her husband a confused frown. "She's eleven months old, Chase. She doesn't know what hate is."

Chase was keeping an eye on their baby girl as she wandered around the middle of the living room, picking and choosing her way through a plethora of colourful toys. Although she had yet to fully master the concept of playing, Rosemary would reach out, grab a block or a rattle with both hands, raise her arm above her head, then promptly drop the object to the ground. The clattering sound made her mouth lift into a toothless grin, and sometimes she'd even giggle.

Maybe she wasn't capable of hate at the moment, but she knew what she did and didn't like. Certain green vegetables, for example – she wrinkled her nose every time Chase came anywhere near her with a piece of broccoli in hand.

Chase glanced at Holly. "So why won't she say Dada?" He asked with an almost pout.

"She will, eventually," His wife replied patiently, checking the temperature of the bottle she was preparing, "You can't rush her."

Despite the reassurance, Chase couldn't stop his eyebrows from knitting together in concern. Rosemary had said her first word at nine months old – "Mama" – and since then had added even more to her vocabulary. From bottle "Ba-ba" to the name of her friend "Heaf" – everything except Dada.

Rosie toddled over to her father, holding out a small teddy bear to him as if she could sense his upset. Taking the bear, Chase got to his knees. "Come on, Rosie. Say Dada," He said, waving the toy around, "Da-da."

Her smile grew wider. "Mmmm ma-ma. Mama!" She declared gleefully.

Holly giggled as Chase's shoulders sunk in defeat. "I'm not Mama, Rosie. I'm Dada. _Da_-da."

Rosemary gazed up at him with her large purple eyes. "Daaaa…" She mimicked, and Chase's heart leapt in excitement. "Dah… ahhh…" She always liked to roll the sound around her tongue, as if trying to get a feel for it, like the way she used her mouth to investigate new objects. The word was never completed, however; Rosemary wrinkled her nose, displeased by this new syllable.

"Did you see that, Holly? She makes the same face, the one she pulls when I try to give her broccoli!" Chase started to fret. "She hates me."

With a sigh, his wife turned off the stove and removed the bottle from the pot. She crossed the room, picked up their daughter and offered her the milk, which she happily took to. "She doesn't hate you. You're her daddy. She loves you, and she always will!"

Her words were no comfort. "Is it because I'm not home enough? She's always sleeping by the time I leave work," He murmured apprehensively, "Maybe I should change my shifts…"

"But Yolanda is so close to promoting you!"

"Our daughter is more important than that."

Holly shook her head, "Chase, you're worrying about nothing."

Chase crossed his arms, much like a petulant child. He knew Holly was more than likely right, but he couldn't help it. Amongst everything other parents had told him, the warnings of sleepless nights and the romance disappearing from a marriage, no one ever mentioned the dreadful possibility that your child might grow up to completely despise you.

When Rosemary was done feeding, Holly gently rubbed her back until she burped, and their little girl was set down on the floor, with full reign of the living room once again.

This time, she ignored her toys and tottered straight towards Chase, with her hands held up.

"Daaa… Daaa…" Rosemary pronounced. Holly gave her husband a smile. He held his breath in anticipation.

But then, her nose scrunched up, and…

"Mmm… Ma-ma! Mama!"

Chase let out a soft sigh, before he lifted his daughter into his arms and cuddled her close to his chest. Even if spending more time with his daughter wouldn't make her say "Dada," he was happy to do it all the same.


	5. Guidance

Sorry for the lack of updates! I was busy with school and then my vacation started but I got lazy… :')

Hmm, you know, I don't mind if Rosemary and Heath act a little younger than they are. I've always pictured the rival kids as being more innocent, since they seem pretty sheltered from the outside world on their little island… well, that's my excuse anyway :P

Besides, Rosemary is going to be forced to grow up soon…

* * *

><p><strong>For All We Know<strong>

On the surface, it seemed like just another ordinary day.

It had started the same as usual; Mama had thrown open the curtains and the sunlight forced them out of bed. Rosemary and Oliver got dressed and had breakfast. Daddy woke up just as they were leaving for school (Rosemary didn't speak to him though; she hadn't spoken to him at all this week). Mama kissed them goodbye and they followed the dirt trail away from the farm and into the Maple Lake District. And of course, Heath had been there outside his house, waiting for them to walk by.

But it was then the cracks had started to appear.

Rosemary, Oliver and Heath made their way to school in silence. Rosemary was in the lead, a few steps ahead of the others, staring intently into the distance. Heath's gaze never left his shoes; when he did look up, sadness clouded his eyes, like a grey cloud swallowing the sky on a rainy day. A few times, Oliver tried to dispel the gloom hanging over their little group, but his attempts were ignored.

For the first time in her entire life, Rosemary was glad when they finally reached the school gates. Uncle Gill – Mr Hamilton, she self-corrected – stood by the doors, quickly ushering everyone inside for class. Everyone took their usual seats: the nerds up the front (Van and Vivian), cool kids in the back (Roy and Lucy), and everyone else filling the spaces in between. In another move that brought their routine to a screeching halt, Rosemary forced Oliver to sit next to her and Heath was lost, left without a seat – he eventually settled next to Angie on the other side of the room, though his gaze lingered elsewhere.

Rosemary stared out of the window for most of the lesson, barely listening to a word Mr Hamilton was saying, but feeling soothed by the sound of his voice. Anything to distract her, to fill the silences.

Next thing she knew, it was lunchtime, and the quiet returned. While the other kids ran around and played, making the most of their break, Rosemary and Heath sat on the outskirts of the small recess area, picking miserably at their sandwiches.

Things hadn't been the same since the day they tried to run away together.

There was little she could do to stop Uncle Calvin and Aunt Phoebe from taking Heath away from her – after all the crying and screaming, she'd finally come to accept that. Mama had reassured her that long distance friendships can work. Just look at Aunt Maya and Uncle Kevin; for the most part, their friendship had been limited to letters, yet they still ended up falling in love. As soon as Uncle Kevin had graduated from college, he moved to Waffle Island to be with her.

As the end of the month loomed closer and closer, however, it became too easy for her thoughts to wander to the future. What would happen after Heath moved away? What would her days be like without him by her side? How could she go adventuring if her trusted partner left her behind? Who would she tell her secrets to? Who would cheer her up on a lousy day? Who would _she_ be once Heath was gone forever?

What if Heath forgot about her?

The question haunted her, long after lunchtime and she and Heath separated and went back to their seats.

Soon enough, the school bell chimed yet again. Already home time. She threw her pencil case and notebook into her bag and bolted towards the door, almost barrelling into Matt in the process. Her brother called out, "Hey, wait for me!" but she didn't stop, didn't look back, just kept on running until Waffle Town disappeared and she found herself surrounded by the Maple Lake District.

Breathing hard, she glanced up at the house she'd stopped in front of. Heath's house. Just the sight of it caused year's worth of memories to surface. It suddenly became difficult to breathe.

"Rosemary!"

She spun around at the sound of her name. There was Heath, running towards her, with worry etched into his expression. For a little while, it seemed like time had stopped as they just watched each other. She wished Heath would smile again; he always used to smile. A second later, Oliver came skidding around the corner, out of breath, and the moment was ruined.

"R-Rosie! W…why'd you run off without us?" Her brother asked once he'd regained his composure.

The question went ignored. Rosemary stared at her shoes. Wouldn't it be easier this way? If it just ended now, instead of dragging it on and on. Instead of prolonging the pain.

She spoke to the ground, "…We shouldn't be friends anymore."

"Wh…what?" Heath gasped.

"That's not very funny, Rosie," Oliver interjected.

"I'm not joking."

"B-But Rosie…" Whatever else Heath wanted to say became lodged in his throat, and he could only manage one word: "Why?"

The lies sat heavily on her tongue; she forced them out. "Because… I don't like you anymore."

When Heath spoke again, his voice was small, "Did… did I do something wrong?"

_Yes. You're leaving. You're my best friend; you promised to stay with me forever._

Rosemary didn't reply, didn't look anywhere else but her feet. This was for the best, she told herself. For the both of them.

Heath started biting his lip. He always did that when he was trying hard not to break down. She'd seen his tears a million times already, but Heath hated crying in front of her. Boys weren't supposed to cry. Boys should be strong.

"But Rosemary… you're my best friend–"

"Don't you get it? I don't _want_ to be your friend!" Rosemary shouted. The anger, frustration and hurt she'd been keeping bottled up inside was starting to boil over again and it seeped into her voice, poisoning her words. "You're… you're a loser!"

"Y-You don't mean that." Heath was losing the fight. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks.

She knew how to end this. It meant resorting to the most powerful words she knew, the ones that could even break her father. She'd never uttered that phrase to her best friend before; even on those rare days when she was in a bad mood and Heath annoyed her, she never wanted to hurt him that deeply.

Until now.

Rosemary lifted her head, meeting Heath's gaze for the first time that day.

"I hate you."

* * *

><p>Holly was in the living room, busy folding a pile of laundry, when she heard footsteps pounding up the garden path. The children were home from school already. It felt so different compared to Rosemary's first year. Holly remembered how she would putter about the house, trying to pass the hours which seemed to slow to a trickle, anxiously waiting for the moment she could pick her up and bring her home.<p>

The door blew open and Rosemary bounded inside first.

Holly looked up with a smile, "Welcome ho–"

Her daughter didn't even spare her a glance; she quickly stalked across the room and disappeared around the bend, heading to her bedroom.

Eyebrows coming together into a frown, Holly set aside the one of Chase's shirts and sighed. All week long, Rosemary had been like this and Holly was doing her best to comfort her, but so far nothing had worked. Talking about it netted the silent treatment; suggestions of writing letters and phone calls were instantly refuted; everyday, the misery in her heart deepened further and further. What else could she do?

"…Mama, are you okay?"

Oliver was watching her, his large purple eyes wide with worry. Holly felt her heart sink – she hadn't even noticed her young son standing there. She forced her lips into what she hoped was a reassuring smile and held her arms out for a hug, to which Oliver happily complied.

"How was your day, Ollie?" She asked.

He gave a theatrical sigh, "Tiring."

Holly fought the urge to giggle as she ruffled his hair, "Really? What did you do?"

"Uncle Gill – I mean, Mr Hamilton, read us Treasure Island and we had to answer a bunch of questions! And then–"

As Holly listened to Oliver breathlessly describe the happenings at school, her mind started to wander, as did her gaze, staring across the room towards the hallway. She was sure Rosemary was crying again; every morning, she woke up with red-rimmed eyes and her lips turned down in a permanent frown. Although she never heard her sobs through the walls, she felt them, the ache of her daughter's pain pulsing through the house like a heartbeat.

"Mama?"

For the second time, Holly was brought back to reality by the sound of her son's soft voice.

"S-Sorry, sweetie, what happened after that?"

Oliver blinked knowingly. "Rosie and Heath had a big fight today. She told him she hated him and that she didn't want to be friends anymore," He said.

Chase's favourite tactic. If only they knew how alike they were.

Holly felt the frown return to her forehead. Kids fought all the time; friendships were broken over the silliest arguments, and then remade the very next day. But something told her that wouldn't be the case this time.

"Ollie… I have to check on Rosemary. Do you think you can get yourself a snack?"

Oliver looked sceptical – Chase would never let the kids loose in the kitchen unsupervised, "…Anything I want?"

She chuckled, "As long as you don't make too much of a mess."

Leaving her son to raid the refrigerator, Holly made her way down the hall to see how her daughter was doing. She automatically went to open the door; she stopped herself halfway and instead knocked gently, waiting another moment before reaching for the door handle.

Holly quietly crept inside. The room was in chaos, as usual, toys and clothes strewn over every possible surface – they got that from their father. Just as she thought, Rosemary lay in bed, on top of the covers, with her face buried in her pillow. Every few moments, her shoulders would shake, her sobs stifled by the fabric.

"Hey Rosie," She called softly.

"L-Leave me alone, Mama…" came her daughter's muffled reply.

Expertly avoiding the obstacles on the floor, Holly crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. She placed a gentle hand on Rosemary's back, just letting her know she was there for her.

"Go… go away…"

"It's difficult, isn't it?" Holly murmured.

Rosemary lifted her head, glaring at her mother through her tears, "You don't understand!" She cried.

Holly tried to reach out to her again. Rosemary shrugged off her touch and curled herself towards the wall, putting as much distance between them as she could manage.

On some level, it was true. Growing up, Holly had never really had a best friend (she always had her brothers and sister) but she'd watched Rosemary and Heath grow up together, seen their bond form and deepen over the years – sometimes, much to Chase's dismay, she and Calvin and Phoebe would joke about their kids even falling in love and getting married some day. She might not have experienced it herself, but she knew her daughter, better than anyone in the world.

"You know, Rosie, I once had a good friend who went away too," Holly found herself saying – somehow, even with her back facing her, she could tell Rosemary had rolled her eyes. "We met when I first moved here, but unlike me, he was only staying on the island for a year."

"So? It's not the same," Her daughter muttered, "You knew he would leave in the end."

A reaction; she was listening.

Holly went on: "Yes… but still, we became… friends. He was my first… well, he helped me through some tough times. But then, a few months later, he told me he had to leave earlier than planned."

Rosemary's sniffles quietened a little.

"After I found out he was leaving, I started to avoid him. I thought it would be easier that way… I thought that it wouldn't hurt as much." She sighed, "But when I realised how silly I was acting, it was too late to tell him how I really felt."

"What happened then?"

"He was gone, and I…" Holly looked to the window, where Finn's tulip sat, swaying slightly in the gentle spring breeze, "I cried for weeks and weeks."

Rosemary sat up, "Mama…"

Blinking away the haze of the memory, Holly smiled and took Rosemary into her arms. Her daughter didn't push her away. "I know it hurts Rosie, but don't do what I did," She said, "Make the most of the time you have left with Heath, even if it's not that long."

She felt her daughter clutch at her waist, nodding into her shoulder. Holly leaned back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. They held each other for a little while.

When Holly was sure her daughter would be okay, she pressed a kiss to her forehead and stood up to leave.

"Hey Mama?" Rosemary spoke up.

Holly paused in the doorway, "What is it?"

The little girl's purple eyes pierced straight through her soul.

"Do you still miss your friend?"

* * *

><p>Night had fallen over Waffle Island and a blanket of silence had been draped over the Baker household. Everyone had since retired to their beds, the children tucked were tucked in safe and secure, but not all had nodded off to sleep.<p>

In the bedroom at the end of the hall, Holly lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. The house felt so eerie, unnatural even, when it was this quiet. Not that long ago, she hadn't been able to sleep through the night without something waking her up – the shrill cries of a hungry baby, or a toddler calling for her after a nightmare – and despite being barely been able to function the following day, she had relished every second of it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see digital clock on the bedside table – 2AM. Almost four hours spent in an insomniac stupor. Her body was tired after a long day working on the farm and doing chores around the house, but her mind remained alert.

Holly sighed, the sound seeming like a rush of gale-force wind in the stillness. Even though Rosemary's tears had been eased, her worries hadn't, and it was unlikely that would change any time soon. Everything would turn out fine in the end – her little girl was strong, she knew that. She just wished there was more she could do for her in the meantime.

Ten more minutes passed and Holly closed her eyes again in hopes that she would become lost in the darkness. It didn't last long however; the door creaked open and someone tiptoed inside.

Holly slowly sat up. "Chase?"

Her husband came to an abrupt stop; she could just make out his outline, his unruly hair, white shirt and dark slacks.

"Sorry," Chase whispered back, "Did I wake you?"

"No… can't sleep."

"Tough day?"

"For Rosie."

Chase made a noncommittal noise and continued on his way to the small adjoining bathroom. She heard the taps come to life as he brushed his teeth and washed his face, and a little while later, he reappeared in their room. Even with a veil of darkness obscuring her vision, Holly still notice the way her husband's posture slumped as he shuffled around the room, changing out of his work clothes. To think that all those years ago, when they first met, she had no idea what went through Chase's mind. Now all it took was a simple glance.

Once in his pyjamas, Chase slipped beneath the covers with a tired exhale, lying on his side, facing the wall. Holly wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled his shoulder. He carried the scents of the day, of the Sundae Inn, hard work and orange and spice.

"What's the matter?" She asked softly.

When he didn't reply, she thought he may have already fallen asleep, but then he stirred again. He shifted himself around so they were almost nose to nose. The glow from the digital clock illuminated the sadness in his eyes. "Rosie hates me…" He mumbled.

"Oh, Chase…" Holly cupped his cheek, hoping he could see her smile, "She doesn't hate you."

"You didn't see the way she looked at me, Holly."

"She gets it from you, y'know. She's stubborn and a little hot-headed, just like her daddy."

Chase groaned, "That's what scares me."

Holly couldn't help but giggle, which earned her a pout. She pressed closer to her husband and felt some of the tension slip from his body. His warmth enveloped her, soothing her, and though her worries did not entirely leave her mind, they quietened enough for her to finally get some sleep.


	6. Memories

Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone!

Woo, I finally updated. Hopefully the next one won't take so long :')

* * *

><p><strong>For All We Know<strong>

_Then_

Rosemary was searching for the ocean. It was near; she could smell the salt in the air and hear the sound of the waves crashing rhythmically against the shoreline, like it was calling out for her, urging her to move quicker.

She reached the end of the path which overlooked the beach. There were familiar faces everywhere, her aunts and uncles – but not really; only Uncle Kevin was Mama's real brother – who were in the middle of setting up for the Summer Festival.

Every year, Rosemary and her family went to the festival. There was no better way to spend a summer day, eating homemade ice cream on the beach and swimming in the sea, before night-time came and fireworks lit up the sky. At this rate, though, they were in danger of missing out on all the fun.

Rosemary spun around on heel and called out, "C'mon Mama, hurry!"

Her words had no effect on her mother's pace. She came slowly plodding down the street, with a large picnic basket hanging on the crook of her elbow and five-year-old Oliver clinging to her other hand.

"What's the rush?" Mama asked when she'd caught up.

"All the good places will be taken if we don't hurry," Rosemary replied matter-of-factly, doing an impatient dance on the spot.

Mama just laughed, "There's plenty of beach for everyone, Rosie."

"But Heath's waiting for us!"

"Okay, okay…"

Rosemary wasted no more time, taking off across the beach. It was a little difficult to run; her feet sunk into the sand with every step, leaving a trail of deep footprints behind her. Familiar voices called out greetings but nothing would slow Rosemary down. Not until she found her best friend.

Halfway to the shore, she paused and took a moment to scan the beach. A flash of green hair – there he was, sitting beneath an umbrella on the sand, with Uncle Calvin keeping watch nearby.

Rosemary took a deep breath and cupped her hands around her mouth, "Heeeeath…!"

Heath's head shot up at the sound of his name. Their gazes locked. He jumped to his feet and threw both his arms in the air, waving vigorously.

The next moment, Rosemary had tackled her best friend to the ground in a hug, which quickly turned into a wrestling/tickling match that lasted until they both collapsed in a giggling heap in the sand.

"Where do they get so much energy?" Mama sighed, with a shake of her head. Uncle Calvin just laughed, moving forward to help her with the heavy picnic basket. The adults started setting up another blanket and umbrella, but they were taking far too long for the kids, who were quickly becoming fidgety and impatient.

"Mamaaa, when can we go swimming?" Rosemary whined.

"After we eat lunch," Her mother said patiently.

"When will that beeee?"

"Soon…"

"How soon?"

Mama sighed.

"Can we go play until then?" Oliver asked.

"Well, okay–"

Rosemary and Heath were on their feet before another word could leave Mama's mouth and already started making their way further down the shore when she finished her sentence – "But stay where I can see you! And don't go near the water!"

Well, there was no fun in that.

Restricted to such a small patch of shore, Rosemary gazed wistfully at the ocean. It was so close, yet so far away! Maybe she could try dipping her toes into the water… Mama wouldn't get too mad about that, would she?

"What do you guys wanna do?" Heath asked.

"There's nothing _to_ do," Rosemary huffed.

Oliver thought for a minute, "Let's make a sandcastle!"

"That sounds like fun," Heath agreed, "Let's make the biggest sandcastle on the island!"

"No, let's make a sandcastle bigger than the whole island!"

Heath and Oliver looked at Rosemary, waiting for her to jump in. She could only roll her eyes – boys were so easily amused sometimes.

"Don't you want to help, Rosie?" Oliver asked his sister.

"Sandcastles are for babies."

Oliver frowned, "No it's not!"

"It is so, you baby."

His lip trembled, "I-I'm not a baby!"

"Hey, we need some seashells to decorate our castle, don't we Ollie?" Heath quickly cut in. He gave his best friend an imploring look, "Maybe Rosemary will find some for us? Please?"

Rosemary pouted. Whose side was he on anyway?

Then again, she could never say no when he looked at her like that.

"…Fine," She surrendered.

The boys dropped to their knees and started digging a hole, while Rosemary wandered off along the shore again.

Finding seashells turned out to be more difficult than she thought; she walked all the way to the other side of the beach and halfway back again, but saw nothing but rocks scattered across the sand. From this spot she had a view of where her family had settled down for the day: Heath and Oliver were still at work building their sandcastle and the adults were talking. Their conversation drifted over on the wind.

"So where's Chase?" Uncle Calvin asked.

Mama was setting out their lunch – Daddy had made everything before he left for work this morning, since he wouldn't be joining them until later tonight. She replied without looking up, "Working. A shift at the inn before the festival starts."

"He always seems to be working, doesn't he?" Calvin noted. He paused for a second, and then added, "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"No… it's true. He loves his job."

There was silence for a little while, before Mama spoke up again.

"What about Phoebe?"

"Oh, she's helping out with the fireworks display…" Uncle Calvin replied, "Hopefully nothing will blow up tonight."

Mama muffled a giggle with her palm. Rosemary felt herself frown. Lunch would never be ready at this rate; they'd be stuck building sandcastles for the rest of the day!

Rosemary kicked at a stone in frustration, the force of it sending a sand cloud up into the air. Something else was caught in the crossfire; a white object that caught her eye as it went skipping into the sea. Finally a seashell! Forgetting about Mama's rule, she chased after the shell and managed to rescue before it met a watery demise.

With the low tide lapping at her toes, she wiped away the stray wet sand granules. When it was clean, Rosemary held it up to the sun, admiring the way the light bounced off its surface.

A heart-shaped seashell that was almost the size of her palm – it was so unusual, she'd never seen anything like it before. Feeling like an explorer who had just unearthed a long-lost artefact, she clutched the heart shaped shell tightly in her hand and rushed back to Heath and her brother.

The boys hadn't made a lot of progress on their sandcastle; it was still only a small mound of sand, but now there was a shallow moat around the perimeter.

Heath looked up just in time to see Rosemary running towards them. "Rosie, you're back already–?"

"Check this out!" Rosemary exclaimed before he could say another word. The shell was all but shoved into Heath's face.

His blue eyes lit up and the sandcastle was forgotten – even Oliver stopped digging to glance over. "Wow, this is cool!" Handling it with care, Heath examined the seashell from all angles, "I wonder what kind of animal it came from? And why is it shaped like a heart? Did you know it's not really the ocean you hear when you hold a seashell to your ear? The noises around you bounce off the inside of the shell and sound louder!"

Rosemary could only smile at her best friend's excitement. Some of the other meaner kids in their class – like Roy – made fun of Heath for being a nerd, and maybe he was, but it's not like there was anything bad with that.

"You can have it," She said.

"Really?" Heath frowned a little, "But you found it. It's your treasure."

Rosemary shrugged, "But you're my best friend."

For the rest of the day, they worked at building the biggest sandcastle on the island, had lunch and then went swimming. Heath had a smile on his face the whole time. And when Heath smiled, it made her heart explode with joy, like fireworks lighting up the dark night sky.

* * *

><p><em>Now<em>

When Heath didn't show up for school one day, Rosemary told herself it was nothing to worry about. Then, another day went by, and then another and there was still no sign of him. Maybe he was sick; maybe he had more important things to do – as the end of the month grew nearer, she knew he and his family would become busier and busier as they prepared for their move to another country – or maybe it was her fault. Rosemary even went to the extent of banishing Oliver to another table, hoping that the empty seat next to her would somehow bring her best friend back to school.

If he would come back at all.

What if he had already left the island, without saying goodbye? Her heart ached at the thought of never speaking to her best friend again.

But this was what she wanted, wasn't it?

Yet another school day had come to an end and Rosemary found herself alone. Oliver had left with Lucy and her dad since he was staying over at her house tonight. Even having their room all to herself for the night wasn't enough to lift her spirits. With her head hung low, Rosemary slowly followed the familiar path through the Maple Lake District.

"Hey, Romy! Wait up!"

Rosemary spun around. She was surprised to see Roy, of all people, running towards her with his arm outstretched in a wave. What did he want?

Once, Roy wasn't so bad. Aunt Kathy and Mama were good friends, and when they were younger, they had play dates at each other's houses every week. That all changed when they turned ten and Roy turned into a jerk. Now he teased and taunted Heath for no reason and never acknowledged Rosemary's existence at school. (One time, Roy even tripped Oliver in the playground; Rosemary kicked him where it hurt and Uncle Gill gave her a detention for it.)

Pretending she didn't hear, Rosemary continued on her way. But Roy was persistent. He started jogging after her, until he eventually caught up to her.

"Hey Romy," Roy said with a toothy grin. There were girls in their class who would've swooned at the sight (like Vivian, but she'd never admit it). Rosemary thought his two big front teeth made him look a bit like a rabbit.

Again, she ignored him, staring straight ahead.

"How come you're walking home by yourself?" Roy asked.

Silence.

"Lucy said Oliver was staying over at her house."

He wasn't going to stop talking.

"Where's Heath? I haven't seen him around lately."

"…I dunno," Rosemary finally muttered.

Roy's smile widened, satisfied that he'd managed to get a response. Would it be unfair to kick him again?

"But you guys are always together," He prodded, "Did you have a fight?"

She almost did kick him that time. "It's none of your business," She said through gritted teeth.

At least, Roy attempted to look guilty, "Sorry…"

There was silence after that, for so long that it became okay for Roy to be walking beside her. Soon enough, they would be heading off into different directions and everything would return to normal.

"So is it true you two are going out?"

The remark brought her to a sudden halt.

"W-Where did you hear that?" Rosemary demanded.

Roy blinked innocently. "Vivian," He said.

Of course, _she_ would be dumb enough to think that.

Her cheeks felt hot. "Well, it's not true," She mumbled.

"Really?" Roy didn't sound too convinced, but luckily he didn't press it any further. "Still, it's gotta suck that your best friend is moving away."

Rosemary lowered her head. She didn't want to talk about it anymore, not with Mama or Daddy, and especially not with dumb Roy. Her annoyance returned and she brushed past him, breaking into a brisk walk.

Roy just sped up. He cut her off, moving backwards as he tried to meet her eyes straight on. "I can be your new best friend, if you want," He said, "Y'know, after Heath leaves–"

Anger surging, Rosemary struck out. She shoved him away and Roy tripped over his heels, landing on his backside with a dull thud.

"What makes you think I'd want that?" She shouted, "You haven't spoken to me in like two years! Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?"

Roy groaned as he pushed himself back on his feet. Rosemary forced herself to take some steady breaths. Tears were beginning to sting at the back of her eyelids and she tried focusing on their surroundings, hoping the other boy wouldn't notice her upset. Which wasn't a great idea; they had stopped right in front of Heath's house.

Roy was smart enough to keep quiet for a while. When he did speak again, he was suddenly more subdued, more serious, "I just thought you needed some cheering up. You look so sad all of the time… like now, you look like you're about to cry!"

She rubbed at her eyes, "S-Shut up."

"I've always thought you were cool, Romy," Roy told her earnestly, "And you're pretty cute too."

The blush returned to her face.

"W-What does that have to do with anything?" Rosemary squeaked.

Roy shrugged, "I'm just saying. You and Heath have been best friends for like, ever, and he seriously never tried to kiss you or anything?"

Rosemary mouthed indignantly until she found her voice, "T-That's so gross! I could _never_ like Heath like that–"

"Um, Romy…" Roy was pointing to something behind her.

In that moment, time slowed to a trickle. She didn't have to look; she knew exactly who had overheard her hurtful words. If she kept her eyes forward, if she didn't glance over her shoulder, she would never have to see how deep those words wounded him. But she did.

Rosemary turned around, gazing across the front garden where she had spent so many of days playing, imagining, exploring with her best friend.

And Heath stared back at her, his blue eyes heavy with sadness.

Her lips parted, but she found no words on them.

Heath gave her a weak smile, before he retreated towards his house. She watched him reach the door and disappear inside.

There were still no words.

* * *

><p>It took fifteen boxes to pack away Heath's room. How many boxes, he wondered, would it take to pack away the whole universe?<p>

Dad said he couldn't take everything with him when they moved – old toys and clothes were to be thrown away or stored at his grandparent's house, and he had to pick only his most favourite adventure books to bring along. At first, it was too difficult to separate the important from the unimportant, so Dad helped him sort through each item, one by one.

"What kind of stuff do you cherish, Dad?" Heath had asked him one evening.

Dad had paused and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm… well, there's my hat, and my guitar, and my memories…" He picked up the box he was packing away and carried it over to where the others were piled up on the other side of the room. "But you know what I cherish most?"

Heath tilted his head, "No… what?"

"You and your mother, of course!" Dad ruffled Heath's hair, "No matter where I go, I'll always have you guys with me, here." He placed a hand on the left side of his chest; his heart.

Nothing in Heath's room was more important than Rosemary. She was older than him by six months, like a sister but better. She was a few inches taller and always seemed to be one step ahead of him. Heath had to try extra hard to keep up with her, but he never really could. Now their paths were diverging, and their promise to stay together had been shattered forever.

One day, while digging around under his bed for the last scraps that needed to be packed away, he found a long lost treasure amongst the dusty toys and clothes.

A heart-shaped seashell. He remembered when Rosemary found this, a few years ago at the Summer Festival. The memory simultaneously brought a smile to his face and heaviness to his heart. This year there would be no day at the beach, no swimming in the sea, no fireworks at night. But it was things like these, important mementos, which would never let him forget.

It was the most perfect idea.

With Mum's help, Heath separated the shell into two perfectly equal parts, drilled a small hole into the top of each piece and threaded a line of string through it. A necklace made from a portion of his heart.

As soon as the necklace was completed, Heath wanted to run over to Rosemary's house and give it to her, but the timing wouldn't be right. They hadn't spoken in so long, and it hurt him more than anything to see his best friend so angry and upset. But like Dad told him, Rosemary just needed to be alone for a little longer.

Heath would wait for her and for the moment he could give her the necklace. She would know then, how he felt.

No matter where he lived, no matter how far apart they may be, Rosemary would forever be in his heart.


End file.
